Guest Blog - Corsair’s Cove Orchard: The Complete Set by Rachel Goldsworthy, Shelley Adina, Sharon Ashwood

It Calls Me Back

by Shelley Adina

If I were asked what I love most about the Corsair’s Cove series of novellas, I could answer any number of things. The ghosts we invent in the books. The authors I work with so closely. The brainstorming weekends we share to plan the next series. All those things would be true! But the thing I really love is contained in the tag line that seemed to form when we weren’t looking:

Corsair’s Cove. The place that calls you back when you need it most.

It doesn’t say them, though it does refer to the characters. It says you, whether that’s a reader or one of the authors. Because as the world whirls around us and people find more to divide than to unite, having a safe, sunny place for my mind to go seems to be increasingly important. Not that I’m running from my responsibilities (they have feet of their own and they’d only follow). But when I need a mental rest, I go to the Cove.

The Cove, where people I know run the shops. Where roots are deep, and local history goes back a hundred and fifty years. Where the sun sparkles on the waves in the harbour, and the smell of apples is in the air. Where you hear a horn and you know it’s the ferry coming in—you hear a crack of sound and you know it’s the local carpenter building something with a hammer and nails—where you smell smoke and it’s only the old-timers burning leaves.

And that reputation for being the most haunted town in the Pacific Northwest? Some of our characters handle that better than others. As an author, it’s sometimes a bit of a shock to run into a ghost when we weren’t expecting it, like in a creek bed or a cellar. That’s a creepy moment we do our best to get on to the page. Because sometimes even the ghosts are compelled to come back by love of this place.

Just like we are.

To our town.

Corsair’s Cove.

Corsair’s Cove Orchard: The Complete Set
Secret Vintage, Secret Seed, Secret Spring
Rachel Goldsworthy, Shelley Adina, Sharon Ashwood

Genre: small town sweet romance with a paranormal twist

Publisher: Moonshell Books, Inc.

Date of Publication:  2018

Number of pages: 344

Cover Artist: Wicked by Design

Tagline: Let Corsair’s Cove draw you home again …

Book Description:

Corsair’s Cove has a reputation for being one of the most haunted places in the Pacific Northwest. Back in Prohibition days, it was a roaring hive of rumrunners, flappers, money, and betrayal. Big Tom Macfarlane and Marigold Mayhew met in the old apple orchard, loved hard, and died young, but their story isn’t finished. Because some betrayals have consequences that echo down through time … and demand the kind of resolution that only true love can bring …

That same apple orchard has now been sold to the local carpenter to make a home for his bride—and has become a bone of contention. Who knew that the cider apple that made Joe Johannsen’s family famous during Prohibition—an apple thought to be extinct—would still be growing there?

When Joe and Siena Panati discover the secret recipe hidden in plain sight, will it mean their future—or will it tear their friendships apart? Then Sam Wilson’s return to the Cove for an antique car rally triggers a series of ghostly visitations. The last thing he needs is for Marigold’s ghost to reveal herself to Haley Struthers, the botanist who discovered the apples. But Haley has something very real to be afraid of, and only Sam can help her. It all comes to a head when Lora Trelawney returns to the Cove. With the help of Spike the bartender, she discovers that some secrets aren’t meant to be kept … even from herself … and love is the only way that the Cove’s Jazz Age secrets will ever be resolved …

Readers have fallen in love with Corsair’s Cove, its small-town atmosphere and quirky characters.  The Reading Café called the Chocolate Shop novellas “swoon-worthy love stories sure to sweeten your life.” The Orchard series simply raises the bar—giving you stories as tasty as a slice of homemade apple pie!

Secret Vintage Book 1 – Rachel Goldsworthy

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Secret Seed Book 2 – Sharon Ashwood

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Secret Spring Book 3 – Shelley Adina

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Excerpt From Secret Seed by Sharon Ashwood:

“I never thought I’d see you in Corsair’s Cove again,” said Eloise Wilson as she picked at the cookie crumbs on her plate.

Sam’s gaze settled on his sister. She’d chosen the gingerbread cookie with big crystals of sugar on top. It was the same treat she’d always picked, all through childhood. Had two decades actually passed since then?

All families had issues, but theirs were extra-special by anyone’s measure. Now they sat in the upstairs bay window of the Zephyr’s Rest Inn, the space just big enough for a tiny table and two chairs. The stage was set, but Sam wasn’t sure of his lines.

“Sorry I didn’t visit sooner,” he said, sipping his mug of black coffee. No cookie for Sam—he wasn’t into sweet things. “I got busy.”

“Yeah?” His sister’s bright green eyes were apprehensive, as if afraid he might vanish into mist. “Are you sure there aren’t other reasons for staying away?”

Sam sighed inwardly. He loved Eloise, really he did, but she had to talk everything to death. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth?”

He raised his head to answer, but instead of meeting Eloise’s eyes, something caught his attention—a flicker of something white. From his seat in the window, he could see down the long hallway with its double row of guest room doors. This place was nearly as old as the town. Sam would have stayed someplace more modern, but rooms were hard to come by in tourist season.

So here he was at the Zephyr. Even in daytime there wasn’t much light in the upstairs of the inn. Nothing dispelled the shadows that clung to old places like this. That alone made his skin creep, but sometimes—like now—there was more.

The young woman stood halfway down the dim corridor. She wore a pale sleeveless dress and a hat that almost hid her bobbed hair. When was that fashion from? The 1920s? 1930s? Sam wasn’t a clothes guy but he’d learned some history the hard way—like when it was lurking under the bed, ready to yell “boo!”

The woman saw him looking and waved gloved fingers. Sam looked away, finding sudden interest in his coffee cup. It was never good when the ghosts knew he could see them. They always wanted help with unfinished business—as if being a psychic automatically made him a customer service desk for the dead.

Eloise turned her head to follow his line of sight. “Who were you looking at?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked gruffly.

Eloise frowned at him. “Corsair’s Cove has more ghosts per square foot than anywhere I’ve ever been. This inn has six I’ve been able to identify.”

And that was what made them siblings. Other families went for picnics or took cooking classes together. The Wilson kids saw ghosts. The big difference between them was that Eloise had always owned her gifts, however much that cost her. He was the exact opposite—don’t ask, don’t tell—which was why he avoided this town like the plague.

 “Six hauntings, huh? I think I’ll be sleeping in my car.” Sam grinned to hide his thundering heart.

“It was Marigold, wasn’t it?” Eloise raised one brow. “A flapper girl? She likes pretty young men.”

Sam pushed his empty cup away. “That’s the last thing I need.”

“You never know.” Eloise licked sugar from her fingers. “I don’t remember you mentioning a girlfriend.”

About the Authors:

Rachel Goldsworthy grew up on the West Coast, sitting quietly in the kitchen of one aunt or another and nibbling homemade Nanaimo bars while the relations told tales. Some were factual, and some were true. When the time came to earn a living, Rachel took those listening (and eating) skills, and wrote for magazines and newspapers stories of the people and places of the coast. Now she’s writing the adventures of people she’s crazy about in Corsair’s Cove where love and family, like the tide, might ebb and flow, but chocolate is eternal. Every word is true.

Shelley Adina is the author of 24 novels published by Harlequin, Warner, and Hachette, and a dozen more published by Moonshell Books, Inc., her own independent press. She writes steampunk (including a band of air pirates), contemporary romance, and young adult fiction, and as Adina Senft, writes women’s fiction set among the Amish and other plain communities. She holds an MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University in Pennsylvania, where she teaches as adjunct faculty. She won the Romance Writers of America RITA Award® for Best Inspirational Novel in 2005, was a finalist in 2006, and in 2009 was a Christy Award finalist. When she’s not writing, Shelley is usually quilting, sewing historical costumes, sneaking another succulent chocolate out of the box of See’s Nuts and Chews, or hanging out in the garden with her flock of rescued chickens.

Sharon Ashwood is a novelist, desk jockey and enthusiast for the weird and spooky. And chocolate. And pirates. Chocolate-covered pirates would be a definite plus. Sharon’s books include urban fantasy, paranormal romance, historical adventures and more. She is the winner of the RITA® Award for Paranormal Romance. She lives in the Pacific Northwest and is owned by the Demon Lord of Kitty Badness.

http://corsairscove.com/

https://www.facebook.com/groups/corsairscovereaders/

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Guest Blog - Wild Spirits of the Hollow by Lea Ryan

On Writing Witches

Good or bad, witches are some of my favorite characters to write. Several of my books have featured them. They always feel like people that play by their own set of rules. Writing a witch opens a kind of anything-can-happen door. 

When you look at the history of witch-hunting, the accusations always seemed to fly at the women that lived outside the norm. They were rarely the popular girls, unless they were popular with men. That always seemed to rile the bitter, basic bitties. Of course, that makes the witches interesting from the get-go.

In real life and in fiction, their relationships with their communities usually seem to be strained and/or complicated, which also makes for great stories. Are they open and honest about what they do or do they work in secret? Even if they do work in secret, it’s likely that someone knows something about what they’re doing or at least suspects. And how do those people react to them? They might blackmail them or use them, depending on the situation.

Most of the witches in my stories have been pretty modern. They’ve had to deal with aforementioned complicated community and personal relationships. They’re just regular people with some interesting abilities and problems. 

My most recent witches in my newest release, Wild Spirits of the Hollow, do not fit into that category. They aren’t Glenda the Good Witch. They aren’t even Elphaba.

They’re earth witches but not the happy, hippie kind. Their relationship with nature is deeper and more sinister. They sacrifice blood, theirs and that of others, and they are generally up to no good. The scariest part of their magic is how powerful it is, almost like the forest has no choice but to respond to their darkness and do their bidding. 

And the nearby villagers live in fear of them. There are no witch trials there. The people of the village aren’t even able to escape because the forest won’t let them.

There’s such a wide spectrum of creative potential that it’s no wonder witches appear so often in fiction. As for me, I plan to continue writing them: the good, the bad, and everything in between.

Wild Spirits of the Hollow
Lea Ryan

Genre: Contemporary fantasy/Supernatural fiction

Publisher: NightLark Publishing

Date of Publication: 08/28/2018

ISBN: 1721041397

ASIN: B07DN3CH9H

Number of pages: 163

Word Count: 43000

Cover Artist: RL Bender

Tagline: An ancient evil is murdering residents in the isolated village of Mistwalk. Can Shannon survive long enough to save them all?

Book Description:

Shannon lies to almost everyone she meets. When she gets lost and winds up trapped in an Appalachian valley village, her lies don’t get her far.

Mistwalk Vale may look like a fairy tale, but nightmares lurk in the shadows.

Villagers are dying grisly deaths, their bodies reduced to bones and left in the streets for their friends and family to find. Worse, some people suspect that Shannon is involved. They accuse her of coming from the tribe of vicious earth witches down in the hollow.

A man named Owen believes Shannon is innocent. He tries to protect her as best he can, but there’s only so much he can do. She feels herself falling for him, despite her plan to leave as soon as she gets an opportunity.

Caught between angry mobs and an ancient darkness, she will be forced to fight for her survival. Can she save herself and the village before evil consumes them all?

Amazon

Excerpt from Chapter 1

I stood at the edge of the trees, staring at the light deep within the forest. Between it and me, a sea of shadow concealed the underbrush and all that lurked there. This forest, like many other forests, would have its insects, snakes, tangles of who-knew-what, maybe wildcats or some other thing ready to pounce on and maim me.

After hours of walking along a secluded, mountain highway, my brain was thoroughly scrambled. I knew enough to know that, and I knew enough to not fully trust what I was seeing.

It might be a lie, the light, a mirage conjured by some desperate part of my mind. I'd told enough lies to others, why not myself?

A fantasy of stumbling upon a cabin with friendly occupants swam through my mind. They’d have food left over from dinner, a plate they’d be happy to hand over to someone who really needed it, and I did really need it. Lunch was a distant memory, as well as the Skittles from my backpack, my bottle of water. If I made it anywhere alive, I would really have to reevaluate my packing priorities.

I sighed. Unless I wanted to sleep next to the highway, that light was my only hope. I adjusted my backpack straps and stepped into the trees.

I plodded through the darkness in high tops that weren’t made for terrain any more intense than a mall floor. I also regretted wearing shorts and a t-shirt because there was no trail, only weeds and trees and rustling sounds made by small animals nearby.

All the while, the light in the distance remained bright, burning my eyes, but I kept my sights on it because that was hope, even if it never seemed to get any closer.

I kept my mind off my creepy surroundings by considering who I would be for the people who awaited me. Had someone picked me up as I attempted to hitchhike, that lucky individual would’ve had the opportunity to hang out with a model, who was on her way to Miami.

Everybody likes to hang out with famous people and people who are about to be famous. I’ve noticed this before. When I tell them whatever version of the story I’d concocted for the evening, their eyes would light up as if I had offered to take them along to fame and fortune.

The model story was my go-to. I was lanky and odd looking in a way that some people found attractive or interesting, at the very least, plausible model material. This was not the person I would be in the cabin. I didn’t have the energy to keep up the behaviors that went along with that lie.

Models didn’t eat substantial food. Models ate iceberg lettuce and drank lemon, cucumber water. My model did, anyway.

There in the woods with possible food ahead of me, there was no way I could keep that up. I didn’t care what food someone shoved under my nose. The idea of grilled opossum made my mouth water. Boiled weeds? Fine. I'd eat anything.

I tried to come up with another story, but the most compelling at that moment was my own. Broken car. Girl wandering the woods in hope of finding food and shelter. I was filthy and growing filthier by the minute. If I had scissors in my backpack, I would’ve chopped off at least half of my long, brown hair just to get rid of the tangles. That evening, I wouldn’t have to fake a look of utter desperation. So I let the story be what it was.

About the Author:

Lea Ryan is the author of several books and stories. She writes about the strange and the dark, as well as the light and love and strives to immerse readers in vivid fictional worlds. She currently lives in Indiana with assorted family members and various pets. Her website and blog can be found at www.LeaRyan.com.

Website and blog - https://authorlearyan.wordpress.com/

Newsletter Signup - http://eepurl.com/dvlSxn

Twitter https://twitter.com/learyan1

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lea.ryan.12

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4113839.Lea_Ryan

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The Uncanny That Instills A Lingering Horror - Passing Strange: The Well by P.W. Creighton

When was the last time you encountered a piece of horror that just stuck with you? One that really struck a chord or made you pause before you turned off the lights at night? Whether it was a novel, a movie, a show or even a game, what was it about that one piece that really stayed with you?

On a larger scale, most of the horror media that we encounter today isn’t actually designed to stay with you. From the latest torture horror gore-fest at the movies to that zombie survival-horror game, even the strongest horror properties have fallen into a jump-scare territory of late. These takes on modern horror are not meant to stay with you, but rather reaffirm that YOUR world is safe. 

They may throw a jump-scare your way or some gruesome imagery, but they are meant to fill us with disgust in the moment, not stay with you. You are meant to leave the theater, put down the game or the book, and laugh at how silly it was for you to jump. You’re meant to feel empowered for overcoming that fear, or joke about how not-scared you were. In truth, you’re meant to leave the experience knowing just how comfortable and safe your world is.
This is why the Uncanny is often left behind in modern adaptations of horror. The Uncanny is that sickly creeping sense that something is wrong. It’s that flickering light in a well-lit hallway. That one detail that tells you on some level that there is something off. It shouldn’t be there. Like that nagging thought that makes you wonder if you turned off the oven last night. Did you?

The uncanny is that sub-conscious flag that brings that fiction back with you. 

It’s that mark on a bright sunny day, or that change to the dynamic for the characters. Did they defeat the machete wielding killer? Maybe stop the zombie horde or mutant-monsters? Or was it simply enough that they survived the ordeal? That everything they endured- that you witnessed- still exists in the world. In YOUR world.

So, did you check the oven?

Passing Strange: The Well

Passing Strange

Book One

P.W. Creighton

Genre: YA, Mystery-Horror-Suspense

Date of Publication: Sept 2, 2017

ISBN: 978-1522029151

ASIN: B075BJJ1S7

Number of pages: 220 Digital/ 303 Print

Word Count: 54730

Cover Artist: For The Muse Designs

Tagline: Parrish Cove Secrets Run Deep...

Book Description:

For Fourteen-year-old Aidan Reynolds, the archaeological dig at the Parrish Cove historical society is the only thing making the summer interesting.

That is until he meets Maddie, an unusual girl who has just moved to town and is convinced that there is more to the local legends surrounding the historical society than even he knows.  

While Aidan may not believe her, the strange artifacts that are recovered from the dig force them into exploring the dark, twisted history of Parrish Cove and its strange doctor...a man who vanished over a century ago.

Together, they uncover a town secret that has been forgotten for centuries, and discover that there are some things that should stay buried.

Amazon Paperback      Amazon Kindle

Excerpt:

…The officer started us back into the plaza at a rapid walk. His clomping steps on the brick walkway, and the heavy jingling of his belt gave an air of strength. Although Maddie was glued to my side, I could feel her gaining confidence with each step. We were probably running from a dog again.

“Here,” I said, and started us back down the alley past the Custom House.

“Did you see the animal?” The officer asked.

“Yeah,” Maddie responded.

“No,” I corrected with glance at her. “It was fast.”

The officer clicked on his huge flashlight, casting a blinding light down the alley ahead of us. He quickly turned the light down the side alleys as we passed them to check for motion. It only lasted a moment before he swept the back ahead of us over the dumpsters and piles of cardboard lining the alley. The beam was so bright that it was possible to illuminate the brick walls on both sides.

Everything changed the moment we emerged into the park.

About the Author:

Born in California, he has spent most of his life traveling throughout the US. Drawing inspiration from his many adventures, turning that strange reality into fiction.

Over the years, he has found himself in many unusual situations, ranging from hanging off an 80 foot cliff-face in New York, to sailing off the coast of Salem, Massachusetts. He has hosted archaeological excavations, and have even reported from the middle of a police stand-off.

When a teacher asked him in the second grade what he wanted to be when he grew up, he didn't have an answer. To be honest, he still doesn't know. He just lets his characters make that decision.

Site - http://www.pwcreighton.com/

Blog - http://www.pwcreighton.com/surveillance-report/

Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/AuthorPW/

Twitter - https://twitter.com/RavenRequiem13

Instagram - http://instagram.com/ravenrequiem13

Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5625997.P_W_Creighton

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Fantastical Supernatural and Writing - Guest Blog Secrets: In Wolf Lake by DK Davis

Fantastical Supernatural and Writing

Hello Roxanne, thanks so much for having me at your amazing place Fang-tastic Books. Love it…and the reason I enjoy this space so much is because of the supernatural vibrations wafting through the air the moment I walked through your door. WOW! And I know you, dear Roxanne, have something to do with it.

You enjoy the paranormal, supernatural just as much as I do. I’ve read your stories and you’ve read mine…we resonate with the same kind of “imagination” for the wild supernatural. We make sense out of what doesn’t make sense. LOL

That’s my very favorite part – brainstorming to make the wild and crazy…tame. Or at least, plausible.

I could hang out in a virtual world for…a long, long time. My husband and I watched a TV series, Beyond. And in that show, the story-star, Holden, was in a coma for twelve years…living in the Realm. It was a dank, desperate place, where dark entities lived. He had relationships from there. When he finally woke in the human “realm” – he had lost twelve years. (Can you imagine losing 12 years?) Everything looked different and he should have actually graduated high school – I believe he was only a twelve-year-old when he went into his unconscious state.

I enjoyed that series mostly because of the writer’s vivid imagination…the “realm” reminded me of a scary nightmare, and honestly, I thought it could very well be plausible. Then the author threw in a few abilities – paranormal kind of stuff. I applauded; ) That sort of “stuff” brings out the “geek” in me.

It’s the unexpected with a supernatural spin that gets my heart rockin’. Throw in a few perilous twists for a couple of unsuspecting (well fleshed-out) story-stars…and I’m totally ga-ga.

I watched the Vampire Diaries for years, until we lost the station, and also watched Supernatural – who doesn’t like Dean and Sam? I love Dean’s voice. How would you best describe that in words? Deep, baritone, a bit forceful? Honeyed? *smiles*

There are so many ideas for stories buzzing around inside my head – and the next two books in the Secret series only have a couple of my growing list of ideas. Secret: At HL Woods will include a story-star, Bri, who communicates with ghosts, so of course there will be a few of those floating around in the story; ) And they will need Bri to help them find justice…only to do that will mean sharing her ability with other’s. Then there’s Secret: Of Amber Eyes – story-star Morgan is sent to her aunt’s wildlife refuge and preserve. The place is not only for injured wildlife, but also therapy for troubled kids. She discovers something else residing there, and instinct binds her in self-discovery…of the shifter kind; )

Let me ask you all a question – I mean if you’re here visiting Fang-tastic Books, you are into supernatural, so what types of characters (supernatural / paranormal / sci-fi / fantasy) would you love to read about?

Please share…it might just show up in my Secret series book four story; )

Secrets: In Wolf Lake             

Secret Series

Book 1

DK Davis

Genre: YA, sci-fi, fantasy

Publisher: Books We Love Ltd.  

Date of Publication: 1/1/2017

ISBN: 9781772993899

Kindle: 9781772993905

WEB: 9781772993912

Print: 9781772993929

ASIN: B01N7O41FM

Number of pages: 120

Word Count: 41,200

Cover Artist: Michelle Lee

Secret: In Wolf Lake – Tagline

Samantha discovers a gifted creature living in Wolf Lake; now his life depends on her saving him.

Book Description:

Samantha’s dealing with a lot of emotional blow-back from her mother’s new marriage. Then she discovers a gifted creature living in Wolf Lake, and life suddenly becomes all about keeping his existence a secret, earning his trust. That is until his life depends on her saving him. But she won’t be able to do it alone…

Secret Series – Tagline

A series of secrets, invisible yet glaring, and most include a Supernatural spin, like an unwelcomed sensation sparking every nerve ending. 

Amazon

Excerpt:

“This freakin’ rocks!” Lisa zipped by again, spraying diamonds of water all over me. I gripped hard on the rod and stood up to keep the fishing line from snagging on her or the jet-ski. The boat pitched, dipping. I shuffled to regain my balance then turned to give Lisa a piece of my mind. In that nano-second the fishing line snapped. I spun around and tumbled nose first over the top of Koko. My rod splashed into the water in front of me as if I’d thrown it.

Instant coldness prickled through me, but I didn’t want to lose that fishing pole. I dove a little deeper, waiting for the water to settle. The sun illuminated beneath the surface and made it easy to see the rod leaning against a big rock right below me. I swam toward it.

A curl of water slid along my arm as something swam near me. I expected the lunker fish, the big guy that snapped the fishing line, but instead, I stared at two round black eyes. I couldn’t look away from its flat green face, the size of a baseball, with small slits for nostrils and a wider slash for its mouth.
Short tubular ears stuck out from each side of its head. Not any kind of fish or amphibian I’d ever seen.

It stared back at me and moved closer.

When it touched my arm, I screamed. A stream of bubbles flushed out of my mouth, blinding my vision. I pushed off from the huge rock with my feet and fought my way to the surface.
Air, I needed air.

Koko’s paws churned through the water just above me. His nails scratched across my cheek as I surfaced.

“Koko, get back, buddy,” I croaked, sucking in air, and then I nudged him to move back. But I didn’t want him too far away. My mind flashed to the thing beneath the water, greenish body, short arms and legs, and a long lizard-like tail. But those black eyes…the way it stared at me, almost like it had intelligence.

About the Author:

DK Davis writes YA sci-fi, supernatural, and fantasy with a good dollop of all the relationships woven in between. When she’s not writing, editing, or reading, she’s hiking, RV’ing, fishing, spending time with grandchildren or her favorite muse (her husband) in Southwest Michigan.

Twitter – https://twitter.com/DKDavisBooks   

FB – https://www.facebook.com/dk.davis.92     

Website – http://suda788.wixsite.com/dkdavis

Books We Love Ltd. Author Page –

http://www.bookswelove.com/authors/davis-dk/

Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N7O41FM

Guest blog, Excerpt and Giveaway: The Zodiac Collector by Laura Diamond

Top Ten Favorite Witchy-Type Movies

I’ve always loved paranormal stories with lots of magic and fantasy creatures, particularly vamps, witches, unicorns, and anything Halloween-related.

Here are my TOP TEN FAVORITE WITCHY-TYPE MOVIES, in no particular order:

1) Hocus Pocus—can you say Bette Midler’s lipstick? “I put a spell on you!”

2) The Witches—the book was written by Roald Dahl—awesome. Plus, imagine stumbling upon a witch meeting and being turned into a mouse when they capture you. Scary!

3) The Harry Potter series—I mean, really, how can I NOT mention this?

4) Wizard of Oz—“I’ll get you, my pretty…and your little dog too!” (I kind of feel bad for the Wicked Witch, particularly after seeing Wicked.)

5) The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe—the White Witch is so chilling I shivered during her scenes (Tilda Swinton is such a talented actress).

6) The Craft—I am a fan of Fairuza Balk and wish she’d make a comeback.

7) Stardust—the book was written by Neil Gaiman. Need I say more? Yes? Ok. The movie is AWESOME. ;)

8) Practical Magic—a movie for grown-ups, but super sweet and who doesn’t love a story with Girl Power?

9) Maleficent—Angelina Jolie—gorgeous and frightening…and the story is pretty touching too.

10) Charmed—I know it’s a TV series, but I totally dig it (Piper is my favorite sister).

How’d I do? Do you agree with my list? What are your favorite witchy-type movies and why?

The Zodiac Collector

Laura Diamond

Genre: Young Adult Fantasy

Publisher: Spencer Hill Press

Date of Publication: September 23, 2014

ISBN: 1937053636

ASIN: B00LOB5EPA

Number of pages: 314

Word Count: 70,000

Cover Artist: Lisa Amowitz

Book Description:

For almost-16 year-old Anne Devans, the annual Renaissance Faire means three things--her dad spending weeks in the smithy, her bipolar mom doing some manic costume making, and another ruined birthday for her and her twin sister, Mary.

This year, Anne wants things to be different, and she's going to do things her way. On the eve of the Faire, Anne, along with a reluctant Mary, conjures up a spell that will make their 16th birthday party a whirlwind event. Little do they know that it's a literal request.

After the mini tornado in their room subsides, the girls realize they've invoked the power of the Gemini Twins, Castor and Pollux. That's the good news. The bad news is they also caught the attention of a sorceress named Zeena who has been collecting children born under each Zodiac Sign to enhance her power. Once she captures Anne and Mary, Gemini twins, the entire Zodiac, and the world, will be hers.

Anne leads the fight against Zeena, but her one-sided decisions could throw them into a world so far from home, even the Renaissance Faire would seem like a brilliant vacation. Between managing their new Zodiac powers, dodging their manic mother and trying to stop Zeena, they'll get a 16th birthday they'll never forget.

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Excerpt:

The Renaissance Faire wrecks my birthday every year. A month before the actors and merchants arrive to transform Hopewell Falls Park into a sixteenth-century towne—yes, with an “e”—Mom stops taking her lithium. Within forty-eight hours she’s higher than a prom queen accepting her crown. As the best seamstress east of the Appalachian Trail, she thinks it’s her duty to stay awake for days, surviving on double espressos and cigarettes, to make the royal court’s costumes. She says mania makes her more productive, but all it does is turn her into a raging beast that puts Sauron, the Basilisk, and the Kraken all to shame.

Her internet business, Devans’s Dazzling Dresses, caters to the Renaissance crowd and occupies her all year long, but our local faire gives her the most sales.

“These orders came in months ago. Why wait until the last minute to finish them?” I hover near the doorway to the living room—a.k.a. Mom’s studio—and try not to choke on the stagnant air. A wheeze plays at my lungs. I finger the inhaler that I always carry in case I have to take a puff.

The room has the best natural lighting in the whole house. A large bay window, stretching from floor to ceiling, is the envy of every do-it-yourself crafter on the block. I dream about curling up on the seat cushion with a book and a cup of hot chocolate, but Mom never lets anybody in there. No. Matter. What.

I’d need to wear a gas mask, anyway, to prevent an asthma attack.

Heavy-metal music throttles my eardrums. I resist the urge to clap my palms over my ears. Mom says she can draw energy from the sound waves. She thinks the bands create their music specifically for her. No amount of lithium makes that go away.

“What else am I supposed to do? This is how I create.” Her blue eyes spark with fury as she takes a drag on her cigarette. Two inches of ash hang on the end. It’s beyond me how it doesn’t fall off and burn the fabric she’s working on. At least the dry cleaner can erase the smoky stench from her masterpiece after it’s done. She throws a pincushion at me and returns to her ironing. “Now get out of here. Don’t you have finals to study for or something?”

“But Mary’s and my birthday is coming up and I wanted to talk to you—” My voice squeaks and tears burn at my eyes.

Her head snaps up, sending wild-colored curls swaying with agitation. “I’m. Working.”

I can’t even get two sentences out and she’s in attack mode. My stomach twists on itself as instinct claws at my chest, begging for clean air. Ask quickly and get out. That’s the plan. I lick my dry lips. “We’re turning sixteen. It’s important.”

She plucks the cigarette from her mouth and pulverizes it in a nearby ashtray. Her nicotine-stained fingers shake, fumbling to light another one. It takes two flicks for the lighter to ignite. Her cheeks hollow out as she sucks in along drag. She holds it in for a few seconds, eyes closed in fleeting bliss, and blows it out. The lines of her face—webbing crows’ feet, jagged wrinkles across her forehead, arcs from her nose to the corners of her lips—deepen. Pale gray fog surrounds her like she’s a smoldering dragon working up to the big explosion of fire.

“Everything’s about you and your sister, isn’t it? Well, did it ever occur to you that the work I do helps pay the bills around here? I don’t see you bringing in a paycheck.”

“Whatever.” Like a defenseless knight who’s lost his courage, I retreat. I storm upstairs, my ever-ready puffer in one hand while I wave away the haze of smoke with the other. The whole house smells like stale nicotine and my asthma is flaring like Jenny Johnson’s face that time she farted in gym class. I slam the door behind me.

“You interrupted Mom, didn’t you?” My ever-perceptive twin, Mary, guesses right. She removes her earbuds and sets aside her biology textbook.

“No.” I take a hit from my inhaler and flop on my paisley bedspread. Doesn’t matter that I stare at the ceiling. Her accusation crashes over me like a tsunami. I roll on my side to face her. “Yes.”

She runs her hands through her curly espresso-colored hair and glares at me with her jade eyes. “Why?”

“Why not? We’ve never had a real, disaster-free birthday party because of the Renaissance Faire. Isn’t it about time?” I refuse to surrender to her disapproval. She’d never challenge Mom. At least I try. My Papillon dog, Castor, leaps on the bed. The fringe of his sable ears flutter like streamers as he licks my cheeks.

Mary averts her gaze and picks up his brother, Pollux. It was Mom’s idea to name them after the Gemini twins. She called it “kitschy.” Pfft. Amazing she didn’t name us after them.

“Well?” I sit up. Castor’s and Pollux’s dark eyes stare at me with sympathy. The cozy bedroom is their safe haven as much as it is ours.

“The more you bother her, the less likely it is we’ll get a party. I bet she won’t bake a cake this year, either.” She presses her chin against Pollux’s head.

“So it’s my fault we won’t get a party?”

She winces. “I didn’t say that.”

Regret presses on my shoulders and slides down my spine to nestle in my gut like a snake. It coils in my stomach, tail rattling with agitation. “I don’t mean to make things worse.”

“I know,” she barely whispers.

I take a deep breath and imagine the regret snake spontaneously combusting and evaporating into nothingness. Better than having it strike and lodge its fangs into my liver. “What kind of cake would you want?”

“It would be cool to have a tiered one, with piping and flowers. Maybe even edible pearl candies or something.”

The corner of her mouth hitches up.

Mary likes pretty things. I prefer edgy. “What about one with a knight beheading a dragon on top? Blood-red icing can trail down the sides and pool around the base.”

She scrunches her nose and scratches behind Pollux’s ear. “Gross. Maybe we can get a Papillon cake. It’d be so cute.”

It’s not a bad idea.

Her half-smile fades. “Doesn’t matter. Mom won’t go for any of it.”

“It’s so unfair.” Amped on the pain of injustice, I launch myself to my feet and pace our bedroom, from our window overlooking the wooded park across the street, to the desk we share on the other side. The braided rug between our twin beds massages my bare feet.

“Yeah, and what are you going to do about it? Nothing, that’s what.” Mary cradles Pollux in her arms and carries him to his doggie bed. After gently lowering him to the round cushion, she stares at her closet, gaze scanning every inch, and taps her chin. Sucking on her bottom lip, she falls into an OCD trance, and I’ve lost any chance at wrangling her back into the conversation about Mom.

About the Author:

Laura Diamond is a board certified psychiatrist and author of all things young adult paranormal, dystopian, and horror. She’s a lucid dreamer, meaning she can direct her dreams while they’re happening. When she’s awake, she pens stories from her dreams and shares them with her readers.

Laura has many published titles including the Pride Series (New Pride, Shifting Pride, soon to be re-released, and Tsavo Pride), the Endure Series (Endure and Evoke, soon to be re-released), The Zodiac Collector, a novella Sunset Moon in the Lore anthology, and several shorts stories. When she’s not writing, she is working at the hospital, blogging at Author Laura Diamond–Lucid Dreamer, and renovating her 225+ year old fixer-upper mansion.

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Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Laura-Diamond/e/B009Y7L432/

Blog: http://lbdiamond.wordpress.com/

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